


Existential Pondering and Experiencing Valhalla

by tomshardy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avengers - Freeform, BAMF Loki, Father and Son, Marvel - Freeform, POV Loki (Marvel), Post-Avengers (2012), Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Powerful Loki, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 17:16:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17026836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomshardy/pseuds/tomshardy
Summary: Loki has died three times over.This time, he ends up in Valhalla.





	Existential Pondering and Experiencing Valhalla

BEGINNING

EXISTENTIAL PONDERING & EXPERIENCING VALHALLA

 

 **VALHALLA**   _"the hall of the fallen_ "

  

 

Loki is dead.

 

And he is at peace with this.

 

Death is inevitable; whether this be when one was just a babe, or at a couple thousand years old, at the slain of an enemy or due to a crippling disease. Your predestined position in the afterlife is determined by your worthiness of a warrior, or by your unworthiness as a frail being, susceptible to illness. Valhalla or Hel.

Neither appealed Loki. Not since his grandiose collapse into the beckoning toils of the Titan. He felt enough pain to rival the entire Einherjar and has experienced many battles from which he doesn't want to take part in no more. And from the multitude of beliefs and perceptions of Valhalla, there are countless battles to part take in. Albeit, Hel wasn't exactly Loki's favoured choice either- he'd rather avoid the restoration of the bleak relationship he had with his not-sister as he rightfully believed having resurrected Surtur and condemning Hela and the land of Asgard to the fiery loins of the creature originating from Muspelheim, that she wasn't entirely pleased with him. 

Similarly, Loki was not pleased with the conclusion to his life. Strangulation and a broken neck to one he feared. _Tell me, Allfather, is that a worthy enough death to achieve acceptance into the magnificent monument of Valhalla_? Apparently, it was. 

 

Sitting on a grassy field like a petulant child, Loki stared indifferently towards the rich towers of Asgard. Such a delicate sentimentality he once had attached to this place, this different Asgard. _Sentiment is a weakness, little godling_. He couldn't help his remembrance of the palace as a young child; learning the battles of war with his not-brother Thor, or as a training sorcerer, having the potential to become the most powerful seidr wielder across the Nine Realms- perhaps even further. 

With good memories came bad; being ridiculed for his preference for the art of seidr over the heroics of battle, possessing more feminine traits than the average aesir, belonging in the shadow of the golden prince. Although, now as he has grown, experienced and reconciled his relationship with Thor-albeit only a small mount-Loki has become tiresome of past envy as he no longer strived for the acceptance of the Allfather and of all of the people on Asgard. He wasn't Thor, he could never be Thor. He was Loki of No Father, Silvertongue, The Dark Prince, The Trickster God. He had even come to terms with his true form as a Jotun. although, this didn't mean he was comfortable with dropping his aesir guise.

Tilting his head back, Loki was to embrace the breeze until he felt discomfort wash over him quickly as the wind tickled against his vulnerable neck. He could still feel the phantom grip of the Mad Titan lingering, and this made Loki grit his teeth. Thankful for his seidr, he wore an illusion over his neck as he could only imagine the horrific bruising the Mad Man left, and he waned to avoid the chance of Frigga seeing his injured state.

Standing upright, Loki straightened his back, brushed back his hair and made way towards the gates of Asgard as it was inevitable before someone found him and perhaps throw him against the feet of the king. _Does the Allfather still rule as monarch even in Valhalla?_ Mayhaps, he will be sent to the dungeons to live out the rest of eternity for his past crimes. Whatever may happen, he wanted to walk into Valhalla with liberty and at choice. 

 

Nearing closer, Loki thought back through over the years. _Oh,_ _how much has transpired during a short passage of time._ His mind wandered back to times when things weren't as manic as they were now. Many voyages and adventures trailing after Thor, the Warrior's Three and Sif. How long ago he used to cherish his friendship with them, however, as Loki grew with age, it became apparent that the older four only begrudgingly hung out with the second prince as he was (not) Thor's younger brother, and with this, he began to loathe the older four, their passing remarks of him being fragile, of his unworthiness as a warrior, and of being an _ergi_ only supplemented his hate. Though, now, his feelings towards them was mostly apathy and a bit of longing as they were once friends, Loki's only friends really and now, he believed the Warrior's Three dead as he doubted they could hold their own against the Goddess of Death, and he never saw them aboard the refuge ship. Sif was a different story as Loki had sent her off as an ambassador for Asgard as he wanted to improve the relations between each of the nine realms. Only Loki could revel in his own private joke as he had bid Sif farewell to the frozen landscape of Jotunheim and as he was posing as Odin, Sif could only accept the position with false gratitude to Loki's delight.

 

His nostalgia was deterred somewhat by the sight before him. Awaiting beyond the golden gates of Valhalla stood Heimdall, an Asgardian fallen not so long before Loki. Oh, how even in Valhalla have the Norns blessed the Gatekeeper with the most monotonous of all faces, the only difference in his appearance being his once ablaze eyes having dimmed to a dull shimmer. It was unsettling, to be truthful. Above all of this, Loki couldn't supress the relief in seeing Heimdall the All-Seeing so soon after the disastrous termination to the refugee ship they were confined to. Mayhaps, a lifetime ago, Loki used to consider Heimdall as an uncle when he was just a child.

 

"Greetings, my prince." Even when situated in Valhalla, Heimdall's determination to speak as tedious as possible baffled Loki beyond reason.

"Greetings Heimdall. Even in death, you cannot seem to get rid of me so easily." If Loki was surprised by the All-Seeing Heimdall calling him by his title of nobility, he didn't show it. It was awkward, standing beyond the man who betrayed king's orders, in iteration whom Loki froze. Afterwards, the man Loki banished under the guise of the king, and the man Loki fought by against the Goddess of Death. And here they both were in Valhalla.  

"And this disheartens me so." Someone could have mistaken the remark for being grave, yet the familiar although unnatural teasing glint in Heimdall's eyes assured his attempt in lightening the mood. They did only die mere moments ago. Heimdall continued, "I grieve to see your arrival for you have befallen too soon." In light of teasing, Heimdall spared a glimpse of his grief to show, as another from Asgard was no longer.

Indeed, Loki was considered young to Aesir standards. Barely a few years into adulthood when he passed, yet he seemed much older with what he had recently experienced the past couple of years. It was unfortunate. Wholeheartedly spoken, Heimdall rendered the silver tongue wordless, perhaps embarrassed as it has been long for someone to express such feelings to Loki. Unlike his charismatic self, Loki answered. "I appreciate your words, although, I have died thrice times over and you shouldn't have to exhaust your grief as such, it's wasteful." 

With a hum of recognition to Loki's words, Heimdall spoke on his own accord. "I see much, my prince; many souls and beings. Yet when you needed help most, after you fell into the void, I couldn't set my sight upon you. For this, I bid you my sincerest apologies, Loki." Such profound words spoken from Heimdall affected Loki, and he hated this, this sentimentality that was gradually wearing him down, softening him. It irritated him as he could practically oversee the strained tie between them embellish and strengthen with golden wisps as the two apologised and forgave, their move onwards in their friendship and not being deterred by past complications allowed the string the power to renew itself into something stronger.

With a wave of dismissal, Loki pretended as though the words meant little, although they meant so much, and went on to reassure Heimdall. Why? Loki was unsure. "Don't be so guilt-ridden Heimdall, for I have been able to hid under your gaze ever since I have been four or five hundred years young. I must have unconsciously cloaked myself or mayhaps an obstruction simply blocked your view. Don't fault yourself for what you couldn't have achieved in the first place."

Heimdall nodded. "Very well, my prince. Nethertheless, you are here now, surrounded by home. I wish only the chance to restore wrongs for goods between us, if you would as well."

Reconciliation with Heimdall was something Loki couldn't have predicted with what had transverse between them the past years. But he understood that with the happenings of Ragnarok and with recent events on the refugee ship, the two could fathom each other's pain more than others. Wanting to differentiate their conversation from such nostalgia, he opted for a cheap jab. "Do forgive my curiosity, but how does one commiserate with your lack of purpose beyond living life?" Tone of derision, Loki's jeer towards the gatekeeper fell naturally without much thought, although, it came out sounding tired for what was the point of carrying past mishaps between them into the afterlife.

Heimdall didn't so much as bring any attention to what Loki has just said. Instead, he spoke of something new.

"I believe for what we just endured, we can reconcile and recoil pointless questions for vain. You have always seeked answers, my prince, for now, I advise to be at peace with your mind and rejoice with the fallen warriors of Asgard. The Allfather and Allmother awaits your arrival."

 

 

Loki hesitated. 

 

Perhaps, it was the finality of his death which made him stumble slightly. Perhaps, he wasn't yet ready to let go of living-although, he has already cheated death twice before with little disregard. Perhaps, it was the inevitable reunion with the fallen warriors of Asgard; men and women with whom he grew up with and had accepted their passing long ago that he forgot he would meet them again. But Loki knew his hesitation was in result of none of the previous.

He had always only thought of arriving in Valhalla with Thor by his side.

Possibly, they were cynical when they were young, but when they were children, Thor and Loki had often talked about fighting in the most famed battle in Asgardian history, the two princes side by side, befalling to glorious deaths together. Never apart. _How naïve. And now look at them._ Loki is dead, his thrice time over while it's only apparent that Thor will soon join for his first. And, they were separated from each other. One living while the other dead.

 

And when Loki left Thor, he left him in the bloodied hands of The Titan.

 

_You think you know pain?_

 

Thor was better off dead than in the grasp of the Mad Man.

 

_He will make you long for something sweet as pain._

 

Torture was the only imaginings Loki's mind could accumulate of the happenings with Thor; the visceral imagery causing bile to rise in his throat. His throat. The psychological iron gauntlet suddenly felt present again, gripping hard. "No." Loki could only whisper as The Other's words echoed still in his mind. His slender fingers attempting to rip away The Titan's hand away from his neck as his chest deepened erratically. He couldn't breathe. _Panic._

 

 

"My prince-" 

 

What once was the figure of Heimdall stood before the golden gates of Valhalla, quickly morphed into the chaos mind of Loki. Utter catastrophe. 

 

_"And sometimes I'm envious, but never doubt that I love you."_

 

Too loud of voices were deafening in his mind, too incoherent to conjure images, but Loki could make out some. 

 

_"What am I?"_

 

 

_"Laufeyson"_

 

 

_"No, Loki."_

 

Utter disappointment from the Allfather; Loki had failed. Staring up at the father and son, the true and honest royal line to the throne of Asgard, Loki realised he would never be that. And his young, unhinged mind could only evoke one alternative and he chose the unfathomable beauty of the universe beneath him, and so he fell into the open arms of the void. 

 

_"Come home."_

 

He never had one, so it seemed.

 

_"Your birth right, was to die!"_

 

Disownment from the Allfather. He was finished with his usage of the Jotun runt and no longer desired any attachment or reminder of Loki as his once-son. Loki was only a disgrace; a shameful, dishonourable intruder to Asgard and an embarrassment for the Allfather.

 

_"Did she suffer?"_

 

Loki's fault. The Allmother's death was all his fault.

 

_"I didn't do it for him."_

 

Not once more would he ever do an act in Odin's favour.

 

_"I'm here."_

 

Loki wasn't going anywhere. He had nowhere _to_ go.

 

_"I assure you brother, the sun will shine on us again."_

 

This is not the end.

 

_"You will never be.. a God."_

 

Gods have and will always defeat titans.

 

White noise. Too loud. Ringing. Make it stop _. Make it stop!_ Make it-

 

"Loki."

 

Familiarity, assurance, hope; Frigga. Mother.

Perhaps his sorrow resonated off him in waves that the Allmother couldn't help but pay heed to.

Loki had collapsed to his knees, the noise becoming too overbearing, but the voice of his mother made him quickly move his head to face her. Frigga, alive yet not. But here. Loki had barely noticed Heimdall's hand on his shoulder and reassurances falling out from his tongue as he ran towards his mother. How ethereal she was, adorning a yellow dress with golden accents. Elegance poured out from her, her exquisite beauty had never gone even as her eyes welled up with tears from the sight of her son, the most blessed smile on her face.

In her arms, Loki was finally home.

Frigga. Loki's mother. Perhaps not in blood but he was raised and grew up surrounded by her love as though he was her true son. Although, he was stuck by her betrayal as she hid his origin in equal measure with the Allfather, he could never stay upset with her. For he has always been his mother's son; Friggason.  

 

"Oh, Loki." Frigga could only distress as she held her son close to her chest, her voice carried pain as it grieved her to see Loki like this for he always hid his emotions under a mask of indifference ever since he was young. Her heart swelled as she hasn't held him like this since he was just a child.

 

"I'm sorry. It's all my fault. All my fault. I'm so sorry." Loki rasped out, his voiced sounding croaked in result of his tears. _Pathetic._

 

"Hush child, this is none of your fault." Frigga reassured, stroking his long black hair, bushing it away from his tear-stricken face. Frigga couldn't remember the last time his hair was this long. 

 

"I'm so tired of it all." Loki cried out feebly, his lungs paining him as he forced his breathing to calm. It irritated him that he was showing so much emotion, it made him appear weak, helpless. But it was hard not to when collapsed in his mother's arms; the woman whom he grieved over and longed for.

 

"Come now, my love." Frigga whispered softly, stroking Loki's back gently as she held him tight for a moment more. "Let's go inside. There are many that want to greet you." 

 

Reluctantly, Loki stepped out from his mother's embrace, yet never letting go of her hands from his. He locked eyes with hers, long-lasting love adorning back to him, and he spoke.

 

"I have missed you so." This induced a smile from the Allmother.

 

 

Staring back at her son, it seemed as though he had aged incredulously since her passing. No longer stood her young boy, short haired, mischievous eyed son; too intelligent and perceptive for his age when he was just a child. Now; his prominent cheekbones protruded from hollow cheeks, deep purple circles framed his sunken eyes, his once vibrant green eyes no longer had their sparkle of mirth, and his once porcelain skin now worn with stress lines which was quite abnormal to see on someone his age. The sight sadden Frigga immensely, seeing her son like this. She felt responsible for the man he turned out to be, they were so many _what ifs_ that clouded her mind yet she knew it was a waste of time to ponder on. Nevertheless, she knew that Loki should have been prospering, happy even, yet before her stood a man tired of life; tired of it all. Forcing her smile to not waver in the slightest, she manoeuvred her hand so she was now locked in arms with her son and so, she lead Loki towards the gates of Valhalla.

 

 

It was strange. Walking upon the path leading towards the palace Asgardian warriors only dreamt of, aspiring that their worthiness in battle could establish themselves a seat amongst others to dine with the Gods. This Asgard-yet-not was entirely identical to the realm he grew up on, the same Asgard that saw it's end due to the prophesised Ragnarok.

With Heimdall not far behind, the mother and son entered the doors of the grand hall together, Frigga retaining a slow pace to allow Loki the opportunity to breath in the sight before him.

"Well, the Norns be damned! Isn't that Loki?"

 

Perhaps, Loki had been propelled to Helheim afterall. 

 

"Oh, have the travels been rough to you, ol' friend." Good-heartedly, Volstagg the Valiant gave the dark prince a shove, merrily smiling as though nothing malevolent ever transpired between them. "Never has there been a day I doubted your arrival to Valhalla, my prince. Although, I must admit that I was expecting it to be a long while later as you have always been slippery enough to get out of any trap, you vexatious imp!"

Not out from Thanos', so it seemed.

"Volstagg, as brash as ever. Although, I never expected thyself to be happy with my appearance as your past threats still lingers. What was it; _you were to kill me if I showed a mere concern of betrayal._ Yet, evidently, that was a lie. But does it sadden you so that you weren't the one to do the deed? It's unfortunate you had passed on before I did."

His words dishearten the joy of Volstagg and he derived no such satisfaction from this, not anymore. "Nonsense Loki. I have never wished you dead by my hand or anyone else's. What saddens me so is that I left Asgard in all her wonders to the grasp of that hellish woman. Despite that, I fell alongside my good friend Fandral. Speaking of which, come! Quick. Fandral! Dearest Loki is here." Trapped under the heavy arm draped across his shoulders, Frigga left her son with graceful smirk present upon on her face as she witnessed Loki fume quietly to himself as soon, attention was fastly drawn towards him.

"My Gods! Have the years done a number on you, my friend. Nevertheless, you still possess your striking looks. To be wholly honest, without your tricks and exploits of mischief; it has been rather tedious around here. There is only so many times you can slain the boar Saehrimnir before you grow dull of the beast's killing. But atlas, how fares you?"

How many words in which exploded from Fandral's tongue baffled Loki to no end. Perhaps this was just the warrior's excitement taking advantage at the sight of the dark prince, as although there were bad times between them, they couldn't erase the good. Moreover, Fandral the Dashing had been the more tolerable of the Warriors Three and Sif in Loki's opinion, nearly tied with Hogun as he rarely spoke.

 

"As alive as the dead can be, Fandral. You should know, you have been in Valhalla longer than I."

"Why the bitter tone, ol' friend? You sound as though you have just biten into the most pungent fruit amongst such delicacies. Do lighten up." With a friendly pat to Loki's back, Fandral concluded with a smile, his over-contentment with his situation irritating Loki. Irritation that cam easy with the Warriors Three.

"I'll be glad once I drown myself with drink and shove a gauntlet up a titan's ass, you imperious fool." 

Loki's words caused Volstagg's brows to raise in question. "Easy Loki, I only jest. But atlas, do tell; what of Thor? Has he defeated that wicked, horned woman?"

"I imagine he is as glorious as ever, the finest in battle and most harmonious. And I bet his egotistical nature now must rival the one of Loki with his magnificent reign of Asgard's king."

What spectacular imaginings of the King indeed, yet they are indeed false.

 

What once was a battle-envious, narcissistic boy now stood an unnaturally quiet, restraint man who no longer sought out conflict, instead fought to integrate the nine realms together in harmony. Battle-worn and tired, the Thor now was merely distinguishable to the Thor years ago when Asgard was prospering with her people and beauty. It was uncomfortable to take note of.

The exhaustion from the past couple days-no, _years_ , must have finally caught up to Loki as he snapped. His once profound hatred for his not-brother peaked through his surface as the irritation of the attention always finding it's way back to Thor hit Loki. Stepping into the personal presence of Volstagg, he spoke with an incredulous as the warrior sent worrying eyes to his companion.

 

"How fares Thor? He's alone, drifting in space barely clinging to life to my imagination. The prospering king rules over none but dead. And speak well of that woman, for she is my sister afterall." His spiteful tone at the end was worth the disbelieving looks on their faces. Fandral, the Warrior Three he loathed the least, was dubious as ever of the truth of his good friend, unbelieving of the reality of Thor's existence.

 

"How?" Fandral spluttered, concern pooling in those irises of his as he gripped Loki's shoulder, staring deep in the green eyes for sign of manipulation, lies. _What a surprise_.

 

"Asgard is no longer beyond Valhalla, she burns no while more. If you wish to direct blame on a person, then so freely do so towards the Allfather. Perhaps this could have been avoided if it wasn't for his deception in which he built falsehood upon Asgard, but atlas, we're dead and there's nothing able to be done."

 

Loki turned on his heel and strode out from the hall, seemingly walking without a destination in place of mind. He was always for dramatics, Loki was. Eventually he found himself in the Allmother's private garden. It was entirely disorientating the fact in which Valhalla was just another Asgard existing. Thoroughly alike, yet off-putting.

 

He was allowed few hours of solitude before he was joined by Frigga. She knew better to allow her son the time to compose himself, and she knew easily where to find him as he had always admired the serenity and tranquillity of her gardens. Not saying a word, she sat down on the bench gazing upon Loki as he stared outwards, his back towards the Allmother. Patiently, Frigga waited for Loki as he was never one to be introduced to a conversation; he would be the one to initiate them. This also certified the truth in his words.

 

"Why am I here? I am not one drip of blood Asgardian yet here I am, granted access to Valhalla." Loki masked his dejection beneath a façade of indifference. "I am Jotun, besides bitter opinions, and I should have been rejected entrance but somehow, for some reason I am here. Why?" 

Loki yearned for answers, yet Frigga knew not what Loki wanted to hear. "I do not have the answers you seek, my love." With a reassuring smile, stood she and walked beside her son, a comforting hand positioned on Loki's shoulder, Frigga sought out to calm and placate the ever pondering mind of her son. "Mayhaps, you need not be wholly Aesir to be permitted access in Valhalla. You were raised in the heart of Asgard for the majority of your life; you have the spirit and being of any fellow Asgardian. You shouldn't need to discourage your place here in Valhalla, for you are among your family and friends, and you deserve to be here, my dear."

_Bulshit._

Loki never had been upright irritated with Frigga but now, he had no will to listen to sentimental whispers of lies, although he knew the intentions of the Allmother was of those of a concerned parent.

"Forgive me when I say, quite bluntly so, but I don't believe in what you are saying." This resulted in the beautiful features of the Allmother to falter. "From your reasoning, shouldn't that mean Hogun The Grim should have been granted entrance to Valhalla? His ferocity and relentlessness as a warrior made him more Aesir than most Aesir themselves. Yet still, he is not sighted among the dead. So, forgive me again if I appear to _discourage my place_ in Valhalla as in keeping with mine and other's comprehensions, I don't belong in here."

 

"Then where would you say you belong, if not Valhalla? Helheim? Yet, you didn't perish of all age or sickness? Or perhaps, you would prefer to belong to the barren rock you were found upon." _Harsh_. "I say this not to belittle you, my love, but to emphasise that you have a place in this family and you belong to be with us; even if you don't always agree. " With a contemplative sound, Frigga speculated out loud. "What if this is a chance from the Norns to recompense with those you have known all your life? Rebuild friendships, fortify relations. Alter the finalised conclusion to a relation of yours; for I can see it in your eyes that you regret our final words to each other."

 

Recompense? Loki wished none of that, but at the same time, longed for it.

 

And his last words to Frigga were ones he regrets the most. His rejection of Frigga being his mother wholly contradicted what he truly thought. If only he knew that would have been his last meeting with the Allmother; his true mother.

 

Frigga noticing Loki's absence of speech, spoke herself, "I spoke with the Allfather before here, and Odin believed it best if you were to meet in a secluded area so you two could reconcile privately."

 _Reconcile_. How overly-optimistic of the Queen to believe their reunion would be anything but a brazen affair.

 

Grievances still laid heavily between the Allfather and Loki. His hatred for the man was at large, as he never seemed to live up to his standards and expectations, never was recognised nor applauded for his achievements as Thor was, never felt true paternal love from the Allfather. _Perhaps when I was just a naïve, unobservant child, I did, but certainly not after my brief exploit at regency and the acts which followed_. He used to have the desire to satisfy the Allfather with his accomplishments, impress him enough to derive his attention from Thor for only a moment. _A simple nod or smile of recognition would have done it, Allfather_. Now, his stronger emotions towards the old man was apathy, indifference. Nevertheless, Loki couldn't stop his slight mourning for the senile man as he dispersed off the Norwegian cliffs mere weeks ago, no doubt reuniting with his fallen wife, Frigga. For a thousand years believing and acting as his son couldn't be erased as easily as Loki would have liked. The Allfather did raise him despite all, frost giant or not. For purpose or not.

 

"And if I decline the Allfather's wish?" Punishment, perhaps. What of an open, bare-backed flogging; _fitting for jotun scum_. 

"Then nothing more of it, unless you change your mind that is." Spoken simply, Frigga was nonchalant in her words, juxtaposes Loki's frenzy mind. "Odin does not control your movements; you are free to decide in what you want. And if speaking to Odin is not that, then so be it."

 

No more words were spoken after this as a noiseless peace dawned over the two, basking in each other's presence.

 

 

 

 

It has been days since Loki's arrival in Valhalla, and he has felt nothing more than apprehensive for the sake of Thor's wellbeing. Being a God meant you could avoid such necessities as food and water for weeks upon end, and this notion did little to still Loki's dread as Thor's non-arrival to Valhalla either meant he had managed to escape The Titan, or he was steadily succumbing to a futile demise. Loki hated when he thought of this, and with little more than nothing to do in Valhalla, he had all the time to think.

Situated in the room that once belonged to him, Loki stared forwards, no focal point as he absentmindedly manipulated the fire derived from the various lit candles and fireplace, creating forms of people to those of animals. He had been isolating himself from the path of Odin the past couple of days, not wanting to fall into the very anticipated conversation they were to have. It was inevitable, really, and perhaps Loki wanted to partake in it willingly enough to bellow truth at the failed parenting of the Allfather. He would surely obtain satisfaction from the decrepit man's reaction and absolute attention.

Perhaps it was an act of the Norns when a knock against wood resonated around the room, bringing Loki back to focus, his head turning towards the door when a being stood.

The Allfather.

No words uttered, the men stared at each other, taking in the other's appearance. The Allfather looked wearied, his old age demonstrated in his feeble stance, longing evident in a single iris of his.

Loki knew he looked little better than the man before him.

 

"I believe an apology and explanation is long overdue, my son."

My son, _after all that has concurred, he still considers you as one of his own._

"I yearn for little more than a bit of solitude, _dearest_ Allfather. If you may forgive me." The formal, strained politeness as Loki excused himself pained Odin, it was politeness one would show a person passing by; someone you didn't know, although, he should have already accepted that his son- _Loki_ , wanted no more of the old man. Nevertheless, it still hurt to hear your once child reject their once father's relation to them, and it was all Odin's doing.

"I wish to speak with you, Loki, if you please." Persistence.

"Even while dead and I cannot escape your clutches, Allfather." Remembering Frigga's words from mere days ago, he knew he could just up and leave. Yet, he stayed. And he hated himself for it. 

For a man whom wished to speak, not a word escaped his tongue, perhaps thinking on what he would say next that will not fuck up the already exhausted relationship between them.

 

Loki's stare into the Allfather was unwavering, almost as though he was looking through the man instead, seeing through all his lies and manipulations. Why waster and wonder where Loki gets his silvertongue from when it's all so painfully obvious.

"I have failed you-" Finally he speaks, he speaks the blunt, stark truth. "I have been an incompetent, negligent parental figure for when you needed it most. I am disappointed in myself for often having chosen kingship over fatherhood many of times during your childhood, and for having needlessly disregard you and your importance in this family. I realise now that I should have been more  more involved with your teachings, your findings and with your interests. And due to my mistakes, I stand before a man which whom I recognise not, for he is a man who has grown exponentially through suffer and pain in which I inflicted; psychologically through my unconscious degrading of your potential. For this, I will never forgive myself for."

Loki hated this, this sentiment side of the Allfather for he had grown up with the ever callous, cold king who set his family aside for his kingdom whenever the opportunity arose. Yet now, the Allfather appeared sombre, regretful of his mistakes and desperate for friendly ties among them. Again, Loki hated this irregularity.

"At least the king doesn't fall behind cowardice and has actually admitted his mistakes. Suffice to say, it's far gone the opportune time for confessions, Allfather. I have long acknowledged my place as Thor's shadow and nothing more than Asgard's bargaining tool for your gain."

"Loki-"

"Enough! I desire not to hear your chain of lies, Allfather. " The echoes of a past conversation struck Loki. "You wanted to protect your _son_ from the truth, wasn't that it? The truth that harboured Asgard in which the Jotun were little more than vicious, vindictive beings that lacked remorse. The truth _you_ did little to cease, instead fed us as impressionable childs that the Jotun were the monsters that parents told their own at night. The truth that would eventually drive a child deranged, unbalanced that he would then send himself off the Bifrost. Admit it, Allfather, you were only protecting yourself, cowering behind your throne of lies." His voice sneered as the ferociousness in his tone grew, similarly, his posture taut, back tight with tension as though he awaited an attack. Loki scolded himself for his descent into such pitiful emotions once again.

"Loki of-no-father, God of Lies?" Loki, hands clasped behind his back stared blankly upon the view overlooking the balcony, his voice carrying a melody of apathy as he gave liberty to his once restrained tongue in the presence of the Allfather. "You not only lied about my birth, my heritage; you lied to Thor of his sister, and you lied to all of Asgard and her kingdom of your own firstborn and preached gladly about peace in which you yourself never followed. Perhaps, you are more suited for the title than I ever was." Loki mused humourlessly, jaw clenching slightly as old wounds still hurt deep _._

"You hate me." Spoken simply, sorrow laced behind a tone of acceptance.

"I _loathe_ you, you senile, old man. Every day I called for you. For Thor. Heimdall. Norns be dammed! Every bloody Einherjar warrior on this god-forsaken land, yet no one came. No one! Not while I was beaten mercilessly, nor while I cried pathetically for _your_ help. It was only when there was a grand spectacle on Midgard in which you decided to finally look my way and be the benevolent king you are, vanquishing the rejected not-prince of Asgard."

"You speak yet I do not understand. When did this happen? Enough riddles and pronounce plainly, Loki! I only wish to understand that mind of yours."

 

"Answers; that's all I ever wanted that day you withered into the Odinsleep, answers. Yet you dispersed off to sleep, leaving me to suffer with your lies and false-truths while you slumbered peacefully. So now, I forbid you answers so you understand naught. You never understood before, why bother trying now?"

 

Odin had had enough. He sought answers yet received nil from Loki, his stubbornness forever being an annoyance for the old man. Already feeling wearied from their conversation- _argument,_ he desired an end to Loki's deflected answers and covered truths, and so, Odin did what he thought was right in that moment, although morally wrong. He gripped Loki's arm with haste and pushed his magic through Loki's defences, forcibly finding answers hidden away in his mind.

 

For a split second, Odin saw everything. Every unravelling, every twist and every corner; each memory although blurry and contorted, Odin saw the chaos that was situated in Loki's head. It was tremendously staggering what he saw. Sheer waves of ferocity emitted of the Allfather as he saw the malevolent presence lurking in the crevasses of his son's mind. He was furious. Who dare try to control his son!

It happened all too quickly for Loki's comprehension, a split second too late in which Odin saw everything before Loki threw his hand off his arm. It was apparent now that Loki hated the Allfather ever more than before.

 

"Who is this being in whom lied their hands on you, boy? Who dares inflict upon your mind?" Odin was furious, seething with rage although not directed at Loki, but at whom or what that loitered, festering behind torturous memories inside of Loki.

"How dare you!" Loki's hostility was evident, his expression appalled, betrayed at the Allfather's uninvited perturbance into his most private thoughts, even though for a mere second. He felt as though his whole being had been divulged open; universal for all to see.

"Tell me who that being is!" Reiteration from the Allfather as he demanded answers brusquely.

"It matters not-"

"It matters a great deal! You are my son, acceptance from you or not, I raised you and I love you, and it is my fault for having seldom tell you so." Marching up to his son, Odin had to suppress the grimace at Loki's flinch he tried desperately with haste to cover and placed his hands upon his shoulders firmly, staring determinedly with a sole eye into Loki's widened ones, and spoke earnestly. "And seeing that there is a being skulking behind thy eyes angers me so, and equally pains me to have knowledge of their actions upon you. Their marks left on you psychologically, forever branded in your mind."

 

Loki was disbelieving. Why is the Allfather acting as such? He was being extraordinarily confusing. _Not so long ago was when you denied your name to me Allfather, and I was Loki Laufeyson to all._ "To what would this resolute? We are dead, there is naught we can do. Why ponder over a name that means nothing no longer? It is futile."

Odin shook his head, refusal of his son's words. "Not when it concerns you directly. This being has influenced you and has scarred you, it is now plain to see, and you were correct before; I wasn't there for you, my boy. I have truly failed you. I have truly failed all of my kin."

 

_If that wasn't the most shocking revelation of the century._

 

Stepping away from Odin, Loki gave a curt nod. "You have."

 

Odin's eye drooped in slight defeat. It was subtle, almost miscible but not for Loki, who has spent a millennial searching for any reaction, a twitch of an eyebrow or a quirk of a lip from the Allfather. It was disconcerting yet satisfactory to see the once all-mighty Allfather be bested by a not-son's rejection of any paternal relationship.

 

"I realise I would solely be futile in my attempts to try and revive the relationship that was once here, between us; even I am not so blind to see that I have destroyed any hopes of reconciliation. Instead, I wish you happiness and a life freed from complication in Valhalla." Best wishes from the Allfather himself, highest form of gratitude felt. Odin paused, hoping to catch eye contact with Loki but to no avail as the latter remained their focus on the many scrolls and leather backed books stacked upon the shelves. Odin let out a resigned breath as he continued. He wanted to assure Loki that he meant his following words, wholeheartedly.  "And although you may disagree, I will always perceive you as my son, and nothing less, my boy. I am proud of you Loki."

Such concealed manipulation. Loki hated sentimentality. It was wearing him down.

With no reply of words, Odin began to take his leave, however, stopped at the doorway as he pondered his next thought aloud.

 

"If I may, Loki. What transpired for you to arrive here so soon?" 

What satisfaction would the Allfather accumulate from the knowledge of Loki's passing? _None_ , he knew. Nevertheless, Loki decided to reply, an unconscious movement of his hand reaching towards the base of his neck giving Odin all he needed to know in how Loki passed. Loki willed his voice to be strong as he spoke. "The end of existence as we know it. A titan is on a mad quest, and seeks the wielding of all infinity stones. He's gaining success. I was simply, in his way."

 

Looking back to the Allfather, Loki watched hesitantly as a calloused hand reach up slowly to his tense shoulder, avoiding his neck meticulously. With resistance in the beginning, Loki felt entirely drowsy to uphold the glamour around his neck and so it dropped, gold shimmering away to reveal the covered truth. Loki was being vulnerable, and to Odin of all people. _Why?_

 

Odin's response to Loki's neck was evident solely in the stagger in his breathing and the twitch demonstrated in the lift of his brows. With a slight nod of thanks, Odin left the room with haste, ultimately, leaving Loki to be alone.

Loki was unsure whether to forsake the fury he discerned from the eyes of the Allfather for the anger of a parent or for something entirely different. Alternatively, he thought best to leave his perception for having seen nothing at all.

 

Feeling entirely emotionally exhausted from the conversation, Loki collapsed down on the bed and slept dreamlessly.

ϟ

Time passed in Valhalla. Loki still questioned his existence in the Golden Halls, his belonging to the realm irritated him beyond all yet no answers came his way, discounting Frigga's, and even Heimdall's reassurance of his place on the world of the dead. Within Valhalla, relationships were recovered and people reconciled. This wasn't synonymous with Loki and the Allfather however. Although, it's right to be entirely dubious in believing that the two would ever go back to father and son, they have both decided acquaintances would do, and that is fine with them. When concerning Frigga and Loki, their relationship is prospering in the most beautiful forms of mother and son, years lost between them and much to tell each other. Loki feels much at peace with her.

 

Similarly, staring out amongst the orange sunset, Loki could feel the tranquillity sing within the gentle breeze, calming his thoughts and breaths. It was pure. Although, it became apparent that something was off all of a sudden, not worrying in any way but anticipating as Loki felt a spike in the air. Static.

Loki sprinted. Over the hill he ran, and he ran. Until he saw an outline, a figure, _no_ \- a man. Thor.

 

Thor was worn. He was hunched in posture, shoulders deflated, head hung in defeat. _They lost._

 

None of this mattered though when Thor looked up and saw Loki. His light and his other half, for there is no Thor without Loki, and equally no Loki without Thor.

 

Overwhelmed joy shone brightly in equal eyes as they stood opposite to each other. No words spoken nor traded. It was poetic, really. _I assure you brother, the sun will shine on us again,_ echoed in both minds. And it did.

 

_And so, the brothers finally had their hug._

 

 


End file.
